


You Never Said Goodbye, So I'm Stuck Here Pretending You're Still Around

by sleepilychaotic



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, doesn't follow the show at all holy shit, it gay if you squint, it would honestly have been easier to write porn than to do this, mostly sad though, porn next time then
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:37:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9941675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepilychaotic/pseuds/sleepilychaotic
Summary: Clarke and Lexa but instead of porn it's angstLexa had always been there to help Clarke find her way, but not this time. This time, Clarke is alone.





	1. I Just Wanted To Make You Something Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Echo](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/268385) by Sigrid. 



> this is a thing
> 
> also it says there's only one chapter but that's a LIE and i'll update in like a week so *gun fingers*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from a song by Industries of the Blind

_“Stay. Lexa, please. You can’t go, Lexa, not yet. Stay.”_

_“You know I cannot.”_

_“Just a little while more. Just a day.”_

* * *

 

If only they got down from the mountainside, Clarke fancied, they would be safe.

 

The slope from the cliff where they hid to the tree-covered ground was steep and unsheltered. The rain had made it slippery. No matter how quickly and soundlessly they moved, no matter how dark it was now that clouds hid the moon, they wouldn't be able to hide out there. The problem was they couldn't hide for long here either. As soon as night truly came, **_things_ ** would come searching, sneaking, along the only passable path nearby; they would find their smell and their tracks in the mud, and then they would find their hideout. But if they ran down the mountainside – ran fast– they could reach the trees and hide in the woods. At least Clarke would feel safer there.

 

"What do you think?" She asked. Her voice almost drowned in the heavy rain.

 

"We can't stay here, that's for sure," Lexa said. "Maybe we can find better shelter for the rain."

 

"Wait here. I'll look around a bit." Pressing her back to the cliff, Clark crept forward. She didn't see much of the slope from their hideout, and she wanted to make sure nothing was waiting for them. They had seen signs of the pauna earlier, and they knew there were reapers in these mountains, even though Clark didn't know exactly where they were. She didn't know Trikru territory as well as Lexa did, and she suspected that the commander didn't recognize much in this rain and darkness. The paths had changed since last time they were here. Huddling on the crest of the slope, only a shadow in her soaked and dripping cloak, Clark looked around. The rain was like a massive wall. Grey rain, grey stone, grey clouds. She saw nothing that moved, but she didn't trust her sight in this weather.

 

"It's no use," She said as she returned to Lexa. "Either we stay here or we chance and hope nothing sees us."

 

"I vote for chancing. I'll die from the cold if we stay here all night."

 

"Then we run for the trees and find a better hideout."

 

"Then we do so," Lexa said and grinned at her through the rain.

 

They crept slowly around the cliff the same way Clark had taken, until they stood on the crest of the mountainside again. The slope really was steep. And slippery. The first thing Clarke did as they began climbing down was to lose her footing, and it didn’t exactly get better after that. Then the mountain began to howl. Things Clarke could only assume were some kind of mutated mountain lions came dashing down the mountainside, ragged and hungry and mad, a sudden flood of wet fur and claws and fangs.

 

“The trees,” Clarke hissed. “We can’t fight them here.”

 

In the darkness they began to run (half run, half climb). When Clarke looked over her shoulder she saw shapes- great grey shapes in the rain, moving too swift for arrows. She swore beneath her breath and ran faster.

 

“This way!” Lexa called, aiming for a somewhat flatter part of the mountainside.

 

Clarke turned, but she turned too quickly- she slipped- she stumbled- she fell forward, and when she staggered to her feet the first mountain cat prepared to leap onto her. But it underestimated her. Clarke got an arrow from her quiver before the cat was over her; she aimed, released the arrow, and ran again, not stopping to see where it hit. Behind her, the mutation stumbled and whimpered, and the others hesitated long enough for their prey to almost reach the trees.

 

Almost.

 

The moment Clarke thought she would make it there was a movement behind her, and by reflex she swirled around. Claws dug into her right arm. They had been meant for her neck.

 

“Clarke!”

 

There was not enough space to draw her bow. The mountain lion backed, preparing for another leap- one she wouldn’t be able to avoid- and Clarke fumbled desperately for her knife. The cat was onto her, she ducked from its claws- she was beneath it now- and taking the knife in her left hand, putting all her strength behind it, she thrust it deep into the felines belly. It writhed once, blood bubbling up in its mouth. Clarke managed to shake it off before all its weight was over her.

 

She didn’t watch it fall. Lexa had turned with her sword drawn and Clarke yelled at her to keep running.

 

They reached the trees.

 

They kept running.

 

She didn’t feel any pain- yet.

 

They kept running.

 

And then she stopped. She hadn’t really intended to do so, but her body must have realised before her head that she couldn’t run more. Her shirt was soaked with more rain. Behind her Lexa came to a halt, looked around, then drew her sword.

 

“Are they coming?”

 

“I don’t hear anything,” Lexa answered, “but in case they do, I’ll be ready.”

 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to run.”

 

“Then we won’t.”

 

“We have to find shelter.”

 

Lexa nodded. “We will. But you need to rest, and most of all you need to stop the blood from that wound. Sit down and take care of it. I’ll keep watch.”

* * *

_“And then another, and then another. Don’t you understand, Clarke? I have to go now. A single day will change nothing.”_

_“But I don’t want you to go.”_

* * *

“We’ll go on for a while,” Lexa said, and it was lucky she could think clearly, for pain had begun to dim Clarke's thoughts. She still had her knife in her left hand.

 

They walked through the rain- it wasn’t so heavy here, beneath to canopies- and the trees whispered encouragingly to her. Clarke knew, from the experience of a thousand wounds, that the pain would grow fainter in a few minutes and then she would be able to think clearly again; but it had already bled through her provisional bandage. She would be able to walk for some time, but the constant loss of blood would wear her down. They must find shelter soon.

 

“I recognize this place,” Lexa mumbled besider her.

 

“What?”

 

“Look around.” Clarke lifted her eyes from the ground. She didn’t know exactly for how long they had been walking, but Lexa was right. The voices of these trees were familiar. She looked around, the path, those boulders, the gentle slope of the ground, that opening in the trees…

 

“Camp Jaha...Arkadia,” she whispered. “I thought we were far from…”

 

“It must have been that path we took,” Lexa said. “We walked much farther north…”

 

“Much of nature has changed, of course…”

 

“It might have been a newer path…”

 

They stopped, looking at each other. “I thought we were in the middle of the wilderness,” Clarke said, “and all that time we were here.”

 

“It is the wilderness now,” Lexa said.

 

“Do you think we can find it?”

 

“That depends on what we want to find. It must be in ruins by now.”

 

“We may find shelter.”

 

“We may.” Clarke bit her lip. It was hard to say how it would feel to return to that place. If it was in ruins, and it should be, than maybe it would be painful to see. But it was hidden, and it was safe, and there was a chance some parts of it would be whole enough to provide shelter for rain and wind.

 

“I say we go,” she said. “It’s not far from here, is it?”

 

“The road must be just behind those trees.” They walked again, somewhat quicker now that they had a direction. The closer they came, the more Clarke recognized the place. They found the road and it looked just like it had done every rainy autumn night she had seen it: muddy and narrow and strewn with dead leaves.

 

How was it possible it wasn’t overgrown? And how was it possible she remembered every tree; how could no new tree had grown since the last time she was here? Everything- the way the trees sung softly in the rain, their never-surprised, ever-gentle welcomes, the little water drops gathered on every leaf on every branch- was as it always had been. It was comforting. She was so weary with things that always changed. Maybe it was the magic of this place, or maybe it was just being here, that made her feel better.

 

She was still weary and still in pain, but walking along this road, wounded, was something she had done so many times the feeling was almost nostalgic. She would manage the last bends of the road; she had done that many times. Suddenly it made her laugh.

 

“What is it?” Lexa ashed, as if unable to understand how someone could laugh in this weather.

 

Clarke gave her a wry smile. “I just thought it was funny, that after all these years we still manage to stumble upon some old ruins in the last minute. One could have thought we’d be a bit rusty after so many years out of danger.”

 

Lexa smiled. “It’s not that many years. And it will be more like us if we can’t find a single place where the roof isn’t leaking.”

 

“That wouldn’t surprise me. And I suppose some the pauna will find us in the middle of the night too?”

 

“Yeah, and you’ll have a fever.” Clarke looked at the commander sideways. Water was dripping from her hood, and from the dark strands of hair the was visible beneath it, and from her nose, and her chin; her cloak was muddy to her knees, her fingers were blue from the cold; but her eyes were glowing. Instead of looking stern and wise, like Heda, she looked strong and happy and pleased and alive. Clarke had missed this part of her more than she had ever known. However much she loved Heda, she had missed Lexa.

* * *

_“I won’t make it. I can’t live without you. I will die, Lexa.”_

_“You will not. I know you will not.”_

_“I can’t lose you.”_

* * *

The trees ended. They looked down a deep valley, the rain drops shimmering in some evening light like white dots in the dark. Water ran down the cool metal of high architecture; down sharp edges and soft arches.

 

Far below, the river rushed through the valley, skittering down the mountains. Clarke took a deep breath and smiled. They were really here. And it looked just like she remembered it. The high trees, the towers and the windows, the mountains, the road- it was as if no time had passed at all.

 

She looked at Lexa and the commander gave her a broad smile that said everything.

 

“It was worth running, wasn’t it?”

 

“It was worth every rainy day on the whole journey.”

 

There it was, before them- the Dropship.


	2. Waiting and Waltzing in Airport Terminals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from a song by Industries of the Blind

When they planned this journey they hadn’t got a single thought of coming here; but they had come, and they were here. Beneath the gloomy sky it looked even more welcoming; in the rain it looked even warmer; after all the years that had passed it looked even more familiar.

 

It was as if those years had never been. As if they had been on a long journey and come home at last.

 

“We don’t know how the structure holds inside,” Lexa said. “It might be in ruins, only we can’t see it from here.”

 

“Would you be disappointed if they were?”

 

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

 

“I don’t think they’re in ruins,” Clarke said. “I feel like they aren’t”

 

Walking down the valley was a hard task, as it always was when it rained. The path clung to the mountainside and they had to do the same- it was narrow and slippery- but they knew exactly where to put their feet even when they couldn’t see clearly; they had done it so many times before.

 

Their progress was slow but determined. There would be no warm fire waiting for them down there, but there would be no angry Bellamy and no teasing Raven either. Not the Clarke would have minded it. Not at all. But somehow, it felt good to share the Dropship with only Lexa.

 

Finally they reach flatter ground. It wasn’t far now- over the bridge, up the slope, and then they would be there- but even this close the building didn’t look very damaged.

 

Walking towards the Dropship, Clarke realised every stone it it was familiar to her: on that one she always stumbled, that one was loose, beneath that one she had hidden a secret message for Octavia. But it was the first time, she thought, that she stumbled on that one.

 

“Are you tired?” Lexa asked.

 

“I’ll manage.”

 

“I would help you, you know, if only…”

 

“I know. Never mind.”

 

They fell silent. There was so much to see, so much to think of- Clarke wished she had felt better so she could take a look on everything now.

 

Rain poured down on everything. She shivered and they came to a halt, suddenly overwhelmed by the amount of memories and emotions the place evoke. Where they stood- two small figures before the height of the Dropship, with the rain pouring down on their heads- Clarke hadn’t been able to tell if it was real or a dream. She had stood there so many times it could as well be a memory.

 

But there was no light in the windows, no guards in the watch tower, and the front doors were closed. That, more than anything else, made it clear it wasn’t a memory. Clarke couldn’t remember if she had ever seen the doors closed- not even when the valley was closed to ward of enemies or when chilly winter winds howled in the mountains. Not that it mattered that they were. All she had to do was open them again.

 

“Come.” She said, because Lexa was hesitating.

 

Carefully she walked up the wet ramp and put her hands to the smooth, cool door and pulled. They swung down. Rain fell on the doorstep and on the steel floor of the first level.

* * *

 " _You will make it, Clarke.”_

_“I won’t.”_

_“Yes, you will. I know you will. I know you.”_

* * *

 

The Dropship was different and yet not. It was different because it was empty. It was different because the lights Raven had fixed weren’t lit, because there were no voices, no footsteps, no music; because it felt cold and all too big, and because the floor was strewn with dead leaves. But it wasn't different, because of the 100 names carved into the wall, and the walls were still shiny and clean, and the paintings she had done on one of the walls was only slightly bleached by the sun.

 

The Dropship was the same; it simply didn’t used to be empty

 

“I can’t believe we’re really here,” Clarke said, and her voice echoed. “I thought we’d never see it again. But it’s really happening, Lexa.”

 

“It is.”

 

“All those years I thought we’d never have the time to ever make this journey- and we end up here!”

 

“Maybe it was meant to be like this.”

 

“If it was, I only wish the Gods wouldn’t have caused us so much trouble to come here.”

 

Lexa smiled. When she was commander her smile had become much more controlled than before, and Clarke was glad to see she could still smile in that unchecked way.

 

“We should light a fire, and you have to take care of your arm.”

 

“There might still be some fire wood on the second level?”

 

“The second level it is then.”

* * *

  _"_ _I don’t want you to die, Lexa. Don’t die. Please don’t die.”_

* * *

 

“That wound looks bad,” Lexa said. “It’s bled through your shirt.”

 

Clarke sighed and sunk down on the cold marble floor in the middle of the second level. She unclasped her wet cloak and let it fall, then twisted her arm to see better. It was hard to see and would be even harder to clean and bandage it with only one hand.

 

The second level hadn’t changed more than the first, or than the rest of the levels Clark imagined. The leaves on the floor, the emptiness.

 

“Will you help me?” She asked, very carefully taking her wet and bloody shirt off. “Can’t you see if there are some blankets left somewhere?”

 

“Are you cold?”

 

“Yes. Can you get me one?”

 

She got no answer. Looking up from her inspection of the wound she gave the commander a quick glance, but Lexa was staring at the drops on the windows as if she didn’t notice her.

 

“Lexa,” She said, a bit louder, “can you fetch a blanket for me?”

 

Stubbornly looking away, Lexa still gave no answer. Clarke frowned but said nothing. It had been stupid of her to ask.

 

So stupid.

 

It must be because she was so weary. She couldn't think clearly.

* * *

  _“You’re strong. You will be fine. I know you’re strong, Clarke. I know you will be strong.”_

* * *

 

In the darkness she didn’t see very well, and they had no dry wood to make a fire, but the wound looked rather clean- the blood and the rain had washed away most of the dirt. If she bandaged it with a clean piece of cloth it would probably not get infected, and she would be able to clean it more properly tomorrow in daylight.

 

“The rain’s ceasing,” Lexa said while Clarke searched her small pack for bandages. Clarke looked up. Outside the sky was completely dark, but the rain didn’t drum so hard on the windows any longer.

 

“I wish we could make a fire,” she said. “It’s cold.”

 

“Do you have a fever?”

 

“Maybe a little.”

 

Lexa looked at her sadly. “I wish I could help you.”

 

“I know.”

* * *

  _“Please don’t die.”_

* * *

 

Finding a roll of bandages, Clark begun wrapping it around her arm. But it was difficult and with only one had she couldn’t prevent it from slipping off her arm all the time. Swearing beneath her breath she tried again and again. The white fabric was soon soaked  with blood and blood dripped from her arm into her lap.

 

Pressing the bandage between her shoulder and the side of her head she managed to keep it in place, but it hurt to twist her arm like that and as soon as she moved her head a little the bandage slipped off again. Frustrated she tried again. And again. She shivered from the cold, she was hungry and weary and in pain, and all the time Lexa watched her. Finally she threw the bandage aside.

 

"I can't do this."

 

Lexa frowned. "You have to."

 

"I cannot. It's impossible. You’ve got to help me."

 

"You have to take care of that wound, Clarke."

 

"You’ve got to help me!" Lexa looked at her blankly. No, not blankly, she fancied – coolly, as if Clarke had made her very disappointed.

 

"Pick that bandage up, Clarke."

 

"It's no use."

 

"Clarke, if you don´t stop the blood you will bleed to death."

 

"Then help me!" She snapped, more desperate than angry, and Lexa gave a deep sigh.

 

"You have to do it yourself, Clarke."

 

"It's no use."

 

"You have to try."

 

"I've tried for half an hour! Don't you see it's no use? You've got to help me!" Anger flared up in Lexa’s eyes. "I cannot help you! Either you do it yourself, or it won't get done at all. It's your choice, Clarke. I can't do anything."

 

Clarke bit her lip. She picked up the bloody bandage, but her fingers were trembling and she couldn't hold it steady. She looked at Lexa again and couldn't prevent herself from pleading.

 

"Can't you just help me?"

 

"You can make it."

 

"Lexa, it's easier if you do it. Please. Please help me, Lex."

 

"You can make it."

 

"Stop saying that. Stop saying that!"

 

She threw the bandage away again, not knowing what to do or what to say.

 

"Lexa, it hurts, I'm tired and feverish, and I can't..."

 

Lexa slipped off the chair and sank down in front of her, and this time her gaze was soft, her voice mild. "You can make it, Clarke." Clarke flinched. "Yes, you will. I know you will. I know you." Clarke looked at her, that lined face framed with dark locks of hair. She recognized this. That expression, those words. This had already happened. "You're strong", Lexa said. "You will be fine. I know you're strong, Clarke."

  
_"You've already said that",_ Clarke whispered.


	3. The Lights Aren't That Bright But Our Eyes Are So Tired

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, the title of this chapter is an Industries of the Blind song  
> can you tell I really like their music?
> 
> no proof reading, we die like men.
> 
> also, i don't know if i should end it here. it seems like a good ending spot but who knows. i probably will keep it going.

“What?”

 

“You’ve already said that. You’re repeating yourself.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

Clarke kept looking at her, eyes wide. “You were looking at me exactly like that and said exactly those words. Did you think I wouldn’t remember? Did you think I had forgotten?”

 

“You’ve got a fever,” Lexa said, stretching out a hand to touch her forehead. Clarke didn’t feel her touch. She had known she wouldn’t. “Go away from me.” She whispered.

 

“Go away?”

 

“Go away. Don’t touch me. I’ll tend to my arm.” Lexa backed away from her, confused and hurt- but what did it matter how she felt anyways? It couldn’t possibly matter anymore. Not looking at the commander, Clarke found a fresh bandage and fought with it for some time until he had wrapped it properly around her arm; now that she knew she was alone, that there was no one there to help her, the task wasn’t so difficult.

 

“Lexa,” she called when she was finally done, “aren’t you hungry?”

 

The commander raised an eyebrow. “No?”

 

“Why not? We haven’t eaten since breakfast, and you didn’t eat anything then. Why aren’t you hungry?” Lexa looked at her frowning. “Why is there no water beneath you?” Clarke asked, her voice rising. “Your clothes are as wet as mine, and just look at the floor around me! Your clothes aren’t even dripping. Why is that so?”

 

“That’s enough, Clarke,” Lexa said, and now she looked anxious; but Clarke wasn’t going to let that stop her.

 

“I know why,” she said, and she knew what she was saying would cause her the pain she had tried to avoid, but somehow she decided to speak anyways.

 

“I know why you don’t eat, and why there’s no water on the floor from your clothes, and why your voice doesn’t echo. I know why you can’t fetch me a blanket and why you can’t help me tend my arm. You can’t do anything. You couldn’t even kill those animals! You just stood there with your sword drawn.” 

 

Lexa silently shook her head, as if knowing what would come and already denying it. 

 

“It’s because you’re not here,” Clarke said. She didn’t know how she could say it without breaking inside, but in that moment she wasn’t sad: she was angry.

 

“You’re not real. I created you. You’re my imagination.” Lexa kept shaking her head. “You are here because I wanted you to be here. I pretended it was real, I pretended it was happening, but it’s a lie and I can’t pretend anymore.”

 

“You wanted it to be like this!”

 

“Yes, because I thought it would be better. I thought that if I pretended I was happy, I would be happy. But it’s a lie. It’s my imagination. It was supposed to be like this- we decided it would be like this- but we never had the time to… and then it was too late.”

 

Absently plucking with the bandage, she looked at Lexa and felt empty. These were the words that hurt the most, and she had to say them out loud.

 

“We wanted to take this journey to the 12 clans together, but I am here alone. Because you’re dead, Lexa. You died. You died before we could do it and I am imagining you because it’s so damned hard to believe you are gone.”

* * *

_ “Stay,” Clarke begged. “Lexa, please. You can’t go, Lexa, not yet. Stay.” _

 

_ Lexa lifted a hand and stroked a hair out of her face. “You know I cannot.” _

 

_ “Just a little while more. Just a day.” _

 

_ “And then another,” Lexa said mildly, “and then another. Don’t you understand, Clarke? I have to go now. A single day will change nothing.” _

 

_ “But I don’t want you to go.” _

 

_ Lexa sighed and put her arms around Clarke, holding her very close. Clarke could hear her heartbeat beneath the dark cloth. She tried not to think that it wouldn’t beat much longer. _

 

_ “If I could decide,” Lexa whispered down on her, “I would decide this wasn’t the end of us. But the choice is not mine. If this is the end, then I can do nothing to change it. And if it isn’t… I don’t think it’s the end, Clarke. I don’t think so.” _

 

_ “I don’t believe you.” _

 

_ Lexa lifted her gaze and watched the sun set outside the window. In the golden light, the lines in her face looked softer, and the grey in her hair was like silver. She looked strong and weary, old and alive. In that moment she looked as old and eternal as the white city around them. But Clarke had already lost her. She was already gone. _

 

_ “I won’t make it,” she whispered. Her voice wasn’t strong enough for her to speak louder. “I can’t live without you. I will die, Lexa.” _

 

_ “You will not.” Lexa said firmly. “I know you will not.” _

 

_ “I can’t lose you.” _

 

_ “You will make it, Clarke.” _

 

_ “I won’t.” _

 

_ “Yes, you will.” Lexa looked at her again, and that fire in her eyes seemed to burn stronger than it had ever burnt before. “I know you will. I know you.” _

 

_ “I’ve lost so many already. My father, my mother, Raven and Octavia-”  _

 

_ “You will see them again. We will all meet again. You’ll see.” _

 

_ “I don’t want to leave.” _

 

_ “Clarke…” _

 

_ “I don’t want you to die, Lexa. Don’t die. Please don’t die.” _

  
_ Lexa stroked her hair. “You’re strong,” she whispered, her voice so soft that Clarke almost only heard it by listening to Lexas heart. “You will be fine. I know you’re strong, Clarke. I know you will be strong.” _


End file.
